


One of The Basic Drives

by sage_theory (papersage)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-02
Updated: 2010-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-07 16:10:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papersage/pseuds/sage_theory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to a challenge to have Rodney and John contemplating having kids in an established relationship. Minor edits made to be more in line with canon because it was written well before the end of the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of The Basic Drives

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mcshepylove](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=mcshepylove).



Rodney can see it in John's eyes when he holds Teyla's son and plays with him, teaches him about Earth games: football, hockey, basketball. He'd like that for himself, and Rodney can't say it doesn't spark something in him as well. There's a little bit of sadness when he sees John handing the boy back to Teyla, who is grateful for the free babysitting though not as grateful for Uncle John's introduction of baseballs into their home.

Evolutionarily speaking, it's expected. Procreation is one of the basic drives. But this is not about evolution. This is about John. So Rodney broaches the subject straight forwardly. John's shaving his face in the bathroom and Rodney's on the bed, reading.

"You want kids, don't you?" he asks.

John stops cold, and Rodney wonders if he knows that his face is clearly visible in the mirror from his angle. John can't hide his expression and looks a little bit frightened. "I mean, yeah. One day, okay. But I mean, if you...it's not like..."

Rodney is amused at John fumbling over his own desires. This a man who has no trouble asking for what he wants in meetings, in bed, anywhere else in his life. But then again, for the first time since John asked Rodney to stay with him, he's asking for something when he knows that a 'no' is a big chance and that a 'no' would break his heart.

"Because I was thinking about it," Rodney says, as casually as possible and turns a page even though he didn't read it.

"Oh, were you?"

"It's not like this galaxy doesn't have enough orphans to go around. They need responsible, intelligent parents to raise them."

"So which one are you going to be? Responsible or intelligent?" John asks with a laugh. "You know, we could...hire someone."

"A surrogate?"

"Yeah. If you wanted the kid to be...yours. Or mine. It could be mine."

"Yours?" Rodney scoff. "You could mate with a bald woman and the kid would still be condemned to a life of messy hair."

"I have the Ancient gene."

"That is a bonus."

"Plus, you know. I'm really smart, my medical history is good."

Frowning and putting the book face down in his lap, Rodney considers this, feeling disappointed. His genes don't seem to measure up now that he thinks of it. Sure, he's a genius, but there are other things. The citrus allergy. "Yeah. My mom had diabetes, and the citrus thing. You think it would matter? I don't know if I'd use a surrogate though."

"Why not?"

"How do we know we could trust someone not to take the kid once it's born? If she's the birth mother, she could. I don't know if I'd feel comfortable asking someone we _could_ trust."

"You're right," John replies, and sounds very disappointed. Rodney sort of wishes now he hadn't mentioned that, because John was really starting to sound excited. But what are their options, really?

Suddenly Rodney starts snapping, excited all over again. "I've got it. I am such a genius. I've got it."

John wheels around quickly, shaving cream still on half his face. "What?"

"We could use Ancient technology. We know they made new creatures all the time, and technically we'd just need two genetic samples. Since we're both male, we have an X and Y chromosome each. We could make anything!"

"We cannot use technology to build a kid, Rodney," John says, turning back around with a groan. He starts to shave again then pauses. "Can we?"

Rodney looks thoughtful. "Maybe. It might work."

"It would give a much easier answer when it comes time to tell them where babies come from," John notes.

"You're gonna tell our kid that babies come from Ancient technology? What kind of a father are you?"

"Okay, you can field all the sex questions and I'll just talk about sports."

"Oh no, we are not turning my kid into a jock."

"Your kid?"

"Yes, my kid. Mine. And no child of mine is going to be playing hockey or football. Do you have any idea how much brain damage a small child can sustain doing that? I figure we start him -"

"Or her."

"Or her," Rodney concedes. Fair enough. "If we start him or her early on Mozart."

"Mozart?"

"Classical music is proven to help brains develop."

"Yeah, let's just pin a note to his chest saying 'please beat me up'. We are not turning _my_ kid into a geek."

"Geek? You mean, genius right? With my genes, it's practically a guarantee that the child will be extraordinarily gifted. We're just going to have to prepare little Rodney for a life of intellectual achievement."

John starts laughing from the bathroom. "Little Rodney?"

"Meredith if it's a girl. Might as well put that to some use," Rodney grumbles. He makes a note never to name his kids anything weird, because he hated it and he is. "But we're not naming the kid John."

"Why not? John's a great name."

"It's what you call a toilet. I'm not naming my kid after bathroom apparatus! Oh, oh, and we could put little constellations on the ceiling in it's room. Best to start little Rodney early on astrophysics."

John wipes his face with a towel and leans in the door, with a slightly worried look on his face. "What if the kid did turn out to be a jock?"

Rodney takes a pause. It's something he hadn't quite thought about, but it's something he's picked up from Teyla. Kids surprise their parents, sometimes not pleasantly. Rodney's own father hated him, and he wonders now if maybe he was like this once, prepared to have a perfect child in his own image and disappointed with what he got. He frowns with one side of his mouth just a little lower than the other, looking down at the splayed spine of his book. "I don't know. Would he be a really good jock?"

"Or she. The best. Of course the kid'll be the best. He'll be ours."

"Or she," Rodney reminds John. "She could be a mathematical genius who plays women's hockey."

John laughs and gets into bed. "Hockey? No. Football or basketball."

"Hockey."

"Football."

"Hockey."

John gives up the argument and sighs as he turns the light out. "You really think we'd make good parents?"

Rodney pauses in the darkness and thinks. "Yeah. I think so."

"I mean, what if the kid wasn't a genius or a jock or anything? Would you still..."

"If it was ours, it would be all right," Rodney says into the open dark of their room. "I think. I don't know. I've never had a kid before."

John slides his hand across the bed and takes Rodney's hand. "Neither have I."

"I did deliver one once, so I'm one up on you."

"Goodnight, Rodney."

-END-

  



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